THE BACHelor's dREAM.

The monkey bit

the parrot screamed,
All day the sister strummed and sung;
The petted maid was such a scold!
My Susan learned to use her tongue;
Her mother had such wretched health,
She sat and croaked like any frog —
What d' ye think of that, my cat?
What d' ye think of that, my dog?

No longer Deary, Duck, and Love,

I soon came down to simple "M!"
The very servants crossed my wish,

My Susan let me down to them.
The poker hardly seemed my own,
I might as well have been a log —
What d' ye think of that, my cat?

What d' ye think of that, my dog?

My clothes they were the queerest shape!
Such coats and hats she never met!
My ways they were the oddest ways!
My friends were such a vulgar set!
Poor Tompkinson was snubbed and huffed,
She could not bear that Mister Blogg -

What d' ye think of that, my cat?
What d' ye think of that, my dog?

At times we had a spar, and then
Mamma must mingle in the song
The sister took a sister's part-

The maid declared her master wrong
The parrot learned to call me "Fool!"
My life was like a London fog-
What d'ye think of that, my cat?
What d' ye think of that, my dog?

My Susan's taste was superfine,

As proved by bills that had no end;

57

I never had a coin to spend !
She forced me to resign my club,

Lay down my pipe, retrench my grog -
What d' ye think of that, my cat?
What d' ye think of that, my dog?

Each Sunday night we gave a rout
To fops and flirts, a pretty list;
And when I tried to steal away
I found my study full of whist!
Then, first to come, and last to go,
There always was a Captain Hogg -
What d' ye think of that, my cat?
What d' ye think of that, my dog?

Now was not that an awful dream
For one who single is and snug -
With Pussy in the elbow-chair,

And Tray reposing on the rug?
If I must totter down the hill,

'Tis safest done without a clog – What d' ye think of that, my cat? What d' ye think of that, my dog?

THOMAS HOOD.

The faded Violets.

HAT thought is folded in thy leaves !

WHAT

What tender thought, what speechless pain!

I hold thy faded lips to mine,

Thou darling of the April rain.

I hold thy faded lips to mine, Though scent and azure tint are fled O dry, mute lips! ye are the type Of something in me cold and dead:

A DREAM.

Of something wilted like thy leaves; Of fragrance flown, of beauty gone; Yet for the love of those white hands That found thee -April's earliest born

That found thee when thy dewy mouth Was purpled as with stains of wineFor love of her who love forgot,

I hold thy faded lips to mine !

That thou shouldst live when I am dead, When hate is dead for me and wrong,

For this I use my subtlest art,

For this, I fold thee in my song.

59

And the birds their singing stop
When you pass them with a hop,
Skip, and jump.

Blushes warm your features crest;
In the east or in the west,

South or north,

There is naught so gay and sweet-
So enchanting and petite,

&c.,

As yourself for it's as true
As your loving eyes are blue

You're divine!

As when you last were seen
By myself in May, 18

59.

Ah me! the vision breaks,
And the sunbeams o'er the lakes

Softly play,

While I rise, without a sigh,

And meander down to my

Déjeuner.

RICHARD KENDALL MUNKITTRICK.

S

A Light Woman.

O far as our story approaches the end,

Which do you pity the most of us three ?

My friend, or the mistress of my friend

With her wanton eyes, or me?

My friend was already too good to lose,

And seemed in the way of improvement yet,

-

When she crossed his path with her hunting-noose
And over him drew her net.

A LIGHT WOMAN.

When I saw him tangled in her toils,
A shame, said I, if she adds just him
To her nine-and-ninety other spoils,
The hundredth, for a whim!

And before my friend be wholly hers,
How easy to prove to him, I said,
An eagle's the game her pride prefers,
Though she snaps at the wren instead!

So I gave her eyes my own eyes to take,

My hand sought hers as in earnest need, And round she turned for my noble sake, And gave me herself indeed.

The eagle am I, with my fame in the world,
The wren is he, with his maiden face.

- You look away and your lip is curled? Patience, a moment's space!

For see my friend goes shaking and white;
He eyes me as the basilisk:

I have turned, it appears, his day to night,
Eclipsing his sun's disk.

And I did it, he thinks, as a very thief:

66

Though I love her that he comprehends ·
One should master one's passions (love, in chief),
And be loyal to one's friends!"

And she she lies in my hand as tame
As a pear hung basking over a wall;
Just a touch to try, and off it came ;
'Tis mine can I let it fall?

With no mind to eat it, that's the worst!

61

Were it thrown in the road, would the case assist?

'T was quenching a dozen blue-flies' thirst

When I gave its stalk a twist.